


and cat makes three

by cave_canem



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: M/M, Post-Canon, starring: one of the cats who wishes to remain unnamed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-04
Packaged: 2020-10-09 20:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,833
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20516000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cave_canem/pseuds/cave_canem
Summary: Andrew takes inyetanother stray.





	and cat makes three

**Author's Note:**

> I usually headcanon that Neil is the one who drags home the cats, but... what about Andrew wanting things for himself? I imagine him as a begrudgingly caring cat owner, and having a responsibility would probably give him a push on bad days and prevent him from drifting.

Neil's in bed with Allison when Andrew calls. 

Correction: Allison has come to visit him, and she's sleeping in the bed with him because of his allegedly horrendous and lumpy couch. 

She takes Andrew's side of the bed and the weight of a body is horribly disorienting at first. It makes Neil ache for Andrew so fiercely that he rolls away from Allison, sparing her his mood and the look on his face. She's also far taller than either of them is, and when Neil's trying to fall asleep he has the unfortunate experience of stretching out his restless limbs just to hit someone else's leg. 

This doesn’t happen with Andrew. 

Neil huddles on the edge of the bed, Allison extends her arms in front of her at a ninety-degree angle, and they fall asleep until Neil's phone buzzes to life on his nightstand. 

Sunlight is streaming through the blinds when Neil opens his eyes to grope for the offending device. It's later than he usually wakes, but yesterday's was a hard game and Neil is still sore all over. He's warm and comfortable under the covers and he has no intention of moving, except that Andrew's ID picture flashes on the screen. Neil keeps his eyes open just long enough to pick up. 

"Mmhmm?" he asks as he drops the phone on his ear, burrowing back under the blankets.

"Are you up?" 

"Hmm."

Andrew exhales. It doesn’t sound annoyed per se but it doesn’t sound something an entirely relaxed Andrew would do so soon in a phone call, so Neil wills his tired brain to wake up. 

"What's up?" is the best it can come up with. 

"Nothing." 

Now Andrew's dithering. There's only one solution: "Did you watch the game yesterday?" 

Another huff, this time expected. 

"They showed the highlights during the commercials," Andrew pretends.

"Ha. I've been told my goal featured in those."

"That goalie is an incompetent." 

"Not everyone can win the Goalie of the Year award two years straight right out of college." 

"Oh my god," Allison says behind Neil. "Please stop flirting and let me sleep." 

Neil turns, startled, and his phone slides off onto the bed with a dull sound. He'd forgotten Allison was there. She has her head under the covers, pushing them back just long enough to glare at him with bleary eyes. 

"Sorry," Neil says. 

He still picks up his phone. 

"Sorry," he repeats to Andrew. "Why did you call?" 

"Who was that." 

"Allison." 

Andrew makes a sound. Either Allison hears it, or she knows him well enough to imagine it, because then comes a muffled, "Fuck you, Monster," from under the covers. 

"I got a cat," Andrew says after Neil's silently rolled his eyes. 

If Neil was drinking, he'd choke on his mouthful. As it is, he's sure his tired brain misheard, so he asks: "You what?" 

"Cat. Full of hair, meows when it's hungry, likes to sleep in the sunlight."

Neil goes as far as checking the ID to make sure it's not a prank call, but the call indicates Andrew, two minutes and a half. 

"Why?" he asks finally. "How? When?" 

"Bee suggested it. A shelter. Yesterday evening." 

"Is that why you missed the game?"

"I did not miss the game."

Of course he didn't. 

"Does it have a name?" 

"No. It's a cat. It can cope with being called a cat." 

Neil disagrees, but it's not a position worth fighting for at eight on a Saturday morning with Allison not so subtly eavesdropping on their call. Neil rolls back on his side, his back to her. 

"So — how is it?" he asks, awkward. It's not that he doesn’t want to talk about it. He very much does, because it's a huge step for Andrew and he's interested in every decision Andrew takes, but he can't help feeling a little out of his depth. He has no idea what to say to get Andrew to talk to him about it, especially now that Andrew knows that Allison can hear Neil's side of the conversation. 

"It's a cat," Andrew says flatly, like Neil has any idea. "So far it's pissed out of its litter and hidden behind the couch."

"Does it lose its hair?" 

"Yes." 

Well, there goes Andrew's unruffled dark aesthetic, probably. 

"What?" Allison says over Neil's shoulder. "Andrew's losing his hair?" 

Neil flaps a hand at her. "Send me a pic?" 

"Of the couch?"

"Of the cat." 

"Andrew has a  _ cat _ ?" 

The call ends. Occupied with Allison's screech, Neil has missed Andrew's parting words, if there were any. Annoyed, he sits up, looking at his phone with consternation. This isn't the reaction he wanted to present Andrew with, and probably not the one Andrew was looking for either. 

Something hits the back of his head. Allison replaces the pillow she just hit him with under her head and repeats: "Andrew's got a cat?" 

"Apparently," Neil says, shrugging. "I don't know, he hung up." 

Allison winces. "Sucks. Especially since he did wake us up." She nudges the small of his back with her toes. "Are you up?" 

Neil gets up with a sigh. "Yes." Then, because he knows what she wants after being friends with her for the past six years: "Coffee?" 

"Please." 

The apartment is colder than the bed was under the protection of the covers, but it's warm enough outside that Neil doesn't need to slip on a sweater. He makes his way into the kitchen — out of sight of the bedroom if not out of hearing, since his apartment is so small. He's barely grabbed the coffee pot when his phone goes off in his hand. 

This time it's a video call. Andrew’s profile studiously pretends to ignore him on the picture he took back in Palmetto.

Neil slides his thumb across the screen to pick up. 

Andrew's apartment is still dark. He has thicker curtains than Neil on his windows and a two-hour time difference, so it's still quite early in Denver. Not a time Andrew is usually awake for, unless something's bothered his sleep or he wants to catch Neil first thing in the morning. 

"Hey," Neil says softly as he pours water in the pot. He can just make out Andrew's face in the darkness of his room. 

"It's ugly," Andrew warns, stepping inside the much brighter bathroom. Neil glances away from the screen as the camera takes the time to adapt to the change. 

"How?" 

"They found it on the streets with its face half ripped off."

"Still taking in strays," Neil says. He starts the coffee one-handed and sits at the counter in one of his two chairs. 

Andrew doesn't answer, but Neil can see from the background that he's sitting down on the floor. Then he taps something on his screen and the camera flips. 

It takes another moment for the camera and Neil's eyes to adjust. He sees the litter box before anything else, tucked between the vanity and the toilet. Then Andrew angles his phone and a pair of eyes flashes in the dark spot behind the toilet. 

The cat doesn’t look angry to be bothered, but it doesn’t come out of its hiding place. If Dobson suggested getting a cat to act as a balance in Andrew's life, this one is seriously disappointing, in Neil's unexperienced opinion. It's skinny and, yes, ugly, with one of its ears torn off and missing half of the hairs on its head. Its eyes are wide and yellow with what Neil guesses is fear. 

Neil makes a noise, so Andrew flips back the camera and gets up. He leaves the bathroom without a word, turning off the lights but leaving the door open. 

"So," Neil says. The cat isn't much, but it's still there in Andrew's apartment. It already has Andrew's attention and care, however flippant he pretends to be about it. "Is it a she or a he?"

"It's a cat." 

"I'm not using 'it' to talk about it for the rest of my life," Neil says. 

"You can discover that for yourself when you come here," Andrew retorts.

As far as threats go, this one is so weak it's more of a promise. Neil's transfer is set in motion: Andrew and Neil already know that they'll play together again in the fall. Neil smiles, then winces when a notification pops on his screen, obscuring the top of Andrew's head for a second. 

"I hope you don't mind that the others know," he says. "Allison has already posted in the group chat."

Andrew's face doesn't change. He hasn't read the group chat since he muted it within a day of its creation. Neil sends him recaps sometimes, and the rest he knows from calls from Renee and Nicky. 

"I don't care," he says, "but tell Nicky no."

"For what?" 

"Anything he'll say."

The coffee maker beeps. Neil smiles, pouring himself a mug. 

"He'll want to name it," he warns. "He'll probably shriek and send a reaction selfie. He might even call you." 

"Unfortunate for him." 

Neil's answer is cut short by the look on Andrew's face, leaning halfway out of the screen. At first Neil doesn't hear it, but then it comes, a tinny sound through the speaker of his phone. 

A cat meowing. 

It's a pitiful sound. Andrew listens for a minute then gets up, not toward the bathroom where the cat is surely still hiding but toward the kitchen. 

"It's hungry," he tells Neil, opening a cabinet that was empty the last time Neil was there. He can't see what Andrew is doing but he bets that it's full of cat supplies, whatever form those take. 

"Mhm," Neil says. "I'll leave you to it. Send a picture when it comes out of hiding. I didn't see it well."

"It's too ugly for a picture," Andrew replies before hanging up.

From the glance Neil caught, Andrew might be right. It's in a pitiful state. Then again, so was Neil for most of his first year at Palmetto, and Andrew gave him keys, truths and kisses anyway. Now that the cat is under his protection, Neil has no doubts it'll stay there. 

He takes a sip of his coffee, smiling, and picks up the other mug for Allison. She's fallen back asleep, so Neil sits on the bed and reads through the messages of the group chat without seeing them. 

For the first time since Andrew graduated, Neil is happy for the separation that pushed Andrew into acting for himself. Neil doesn't care for cats and anyway his transfer won't be finalised until at least summer; months away. Getting that cat is something Andrew did wholly for his own benefit, because he  _ wanted  _ to.

When Allison wakes up a second time, it's with a start. She blinks at Neil, disoriented, and accepts the mug he passes her with a grunt. 

"Andrew got a cat," she says. "Did I dream it?" 

"No," Neil says. 

The incredulity on her face makes him smile again. 

**Author's Note:**

> let me know if you enjoyed! you can also find me and reblog the fic on tumblr @[jsteneil](https://jsteneil.tumblr.com/post/187485712771/and-cat-makes-three)


End file.
